


Fixing Mistakes

by OmalleyMeetsTibbs



Series: Tumblr Posts [8]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Developing Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Food as a Metaphor for Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Pre-Slash, Sherlock Holmes Takes Care of John Watson, Tired John
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-03
Updated: 2020-12-03
Packaged: 2021-03-09 17:55:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27850398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OmalleyMeetsTibbs/pseuds/OmalleyMeetsTibbs
Summary: John is exhausted, so Sherlock takes him to Chinese for a bit of feeding up.
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes & John Watson, Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Series: Tumblr Posts [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1782187
Comments: 6
Kudos: 45





	Fixing Mistakes

John has been working shifts at the clinic, helping Sherlock on cases, making sure he eats, keeping the flat in decent condition, and finding time to maintain his blog—all while figuring out how to keep himself alive and functioning. There has been an increase in cases over the last month or so, but Sherlock hasn’t realized the toll it was taking on them both. Partly because he is so pleased to not be bored. John’s blog is helping to foster interest and bring them more clients (though Sherlock would never admit it himself—Mr. “I have a blog”). 

It’s not until Lestrade pulls Sherlock aside and asks about John that Sherlock takes a moment to really look at the man. 

Clinic ID in his coat pocket and clothes clean except for the small coffee stain on the cuff of his left sleeve—shift tonight then. Left hand clenched, nicked himself shaving this morning—tremors appearing semi-regularly, and at crime scenes nonetheless. Dark circles and puffy under eyes. 

Oh. 

Without looking away from John, Sherlock nods to excuse himself. Not just from the conversation but from this case. This one is only a three anyway. Even Anderson would be able to put the chalk dust together with the wife. Sherlock would call Lestrade in a few days once they’ve had a bit of a rest.

With his hands in his coat pockets, Sherlock saunters over to John. “Dinner?” 

John looks up at him, shoulders slumped, exhaustion in his eyes, “Really? Aren’t we on a case?”

“Not anymore. Lestrade’s got it handled. I’m hungry anyway,” he lies. 

The small tightness around John’s eyes gives him away even more. He won’t even call Sherlock out for lying, too grateful for a break. “Alright then. Chinese?” 

With a sharp nod, Sherlock turns on his heel, coat swirling around him, and leads the way to their favorite hole-in-the-wall place. 

On their way to dinner, Sherlock walks beside John, shoulders bumping, making sure to stand close enough in case John collapsed. With John’s slight sway and uncoordinated movements, it could be a real possibility. Taking advantage of their occasional bumps, Sherlock swipes John’s phone from his pocket. He’d text Sarah to let her know that John isn’t coming in tonight. He isn’t in any condition to be going in anyway. 

They get to the restaurant and order, Sherlock taking care to get John’s favorites as John slumps in his chair. While they wait, John resting his chin on his fist, Sherlock states, “I know you were supposed to go work at the clinic tonight, even though you are clearly exhausted and in need of a decent night’s rest—better make that several. Your tremor has been acting up more frequently—spilling coffee, nicking yourself while shaving, even on cases when you are usually fine. I’ve already informed Sarah that you won’t be coming in tonight. And after we eat, we will go home. How much have you been sleeping?” 

The brusqueness of Sherlock’s delivery doesn’t appear to phase John in any way. He smiles fondly up at Sherlock from the perch on his fist. He gives a semi vague answer in response. “Oh you know, a couple hours here, a couple hours there.”

“You mean, you haven’t kept to your regular sleeping schedule?” Sherlock’s brow furrows. How much had he missed? 

Body straightening, “I don’t know, Sherlock. Have I? You know what the caseload has been like, and I still work at the clinic regularly enough.”

Biting his lips, Sherlock feels chastised. Well-deserved, he thinks. “I didn’t notice. I was too focused on the cases themselves.” Ashamed, he looks down at his hands folded on the table. The man who notices everything, not noticing the most important things in life. “I’m sorry.”

John’s mouth popped open, clear astonishment. The food arrives and interrupts their conversation. As John digs in, Sherlock thinks back and realizes they skipped lunch. Again. Content, he leans back and watches John pile food onto his plate.

After a few shoveled bites, John says, “I thought you said you were hungry.” 

A smile quirks up the corners of Sherlock’s mouth. “I lied.” 

John pauses and puts his fork back down, reaching for his napkin. “Now why would you do that?”

Sherlock mumbles under his breath, looking away from John as he does so. 

“Can you try that again? This time for human ears please.” The tease is clear in John’s tone. 

Looking into John’s eyes, blue and warm, the usual glint faded from the exhaustion, Sherlock gathers his courage and repeats, “I have to make sure you are alright. I need to take better care of you.”

At this, John leans back in his chair and crosses his arms, staring at Sherlock. “What’s that supposed to mean?” The hint of threat underlying his tone brings lightness to Sherlock’s heart. His John is coming back to him. 

Waving a hand through the air to hide his discomfort, Sherlock responds with his own questions. “Isn’t that what you are supposed to do? For the people you love? Take care of them? Feed them up?” 

The tightness around John’s eyes turns soft and gentle, and a smile begins to form on his lips to match. 

“Well, that is definitely a part of it at least.” John shoves a small amount of the ample food onto Sherlock’s plate. “Now you also need to eat, you ridiculous man.” 

Sherlock smiles back at him then, recognizing this offering as what it is. A declaration of love. Perhaps tonight, he could convince John that they should sleep better together—cuddle—for experiment’s sake. 


End file.
